Blind Dates
by KafkaExMachina
Summary: Not content with the damage done by breeding, Narcissa takes up the loathsome hobby of middle-aged mothers everywhere: Meddling. Severus-centric 'romantic' comedy.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Company are wholly owned by J.K. Rowling et. al. I am making no profit from their work.

A\N: Trying my hand at something different (and a different ship) than the norm while I work on my other stories. Updated whenever. By the way, blame greynavarre for the plot bunny. It's her fault. Shipping is in the air, although this will be a VERY Snape-centric story told completely in his PoV.

o.O

Severus Snape felt rather nauseous from the direction the conversation was meandering down. He'd initially accepted the luncheon invitation from Narcissa out of courtesy, and a lingering spot of affection; however, her choice of topics was wearing the slender filament of tender feelings to a nub. It would appear that Narcissa, not content with the damage she'd done to the world by breeding, had fallen into that most loathsome hobby of the middle-aged housewife with an empty nest, meddling.

Internally, Snape shrugged. It wasn't as if he was discontent with his life. Far from it. He'd had a grand time showing up to accept his posthumous Order of Merlin, First Class. The looks on everybody's faces when he explained, in the same tones as he favored for his most obtuse Hufflepuff students, that he was a potions master and it was rather stupid of Voldemort to think that he wouldn't have an antidote for the venom of a snake he'd been nursing for three years. Admittedly, the shock Snape'd shown was genuine, but not from the betrayal but rather because the ex-Dark Lord was that bloody stupid. Still, it was a better fate than he'd expected. Snape fought the urge to shake his head ruefully as he tuned out Narcissa's simpering hints that he needed a 'woman's touch' in his life. He needed nothing of the sort. The last woman he loved… well, that didn't matter any more, now did it? Still, he thought with a suppressed smile, it was nice that Lily's boy actually allowed him the chance to redeem himself for how he'd treated her son.

o.O

They'd bonded, surprisingly, at a muggle bar. Snape meandered in, having discovered the joys of their Mint Juleps, and was shocked to see the Man-Who-Lived-Again busily slamming back shots of some clear liquor. Deciding that the present was as good a time as any, Snape sat down beside him and ordered his drink. He didn't bother suppressing a smirk at Potter's snort of amusement at the surprisingly dandy order Snape placed. A short exchange of insults over their respective choices in beverages later, the two felt sufficiently appeased for the real conversation to start. Snape managed to draw out the reasoning behind Harry's sudden need for inebriation, Ginny. It appeared that the pair just weren't terribly compatable after all, much to Snape's surprise. He'd thought that they'd do well together, but apparently Ginny wanted excitement and adventure and felt that Harry was the same way. Snape snorted in amusement at that revelation. Even he could have told anybody otherwise, although he'd pretended the opposite for years.

After a good half-hour of the expected bitching and whining about the opposite sex and lost love, they'd spent the rest of the night sharing fond memories of the one man that they'd both held in such high esteem. Snape reduced Harry to mirthful tears with the revelation that yes, the lemon drops were indeed dosed, but not in the way anybody expected. It seemed that the manipulative old bastard'd still held the turn-of-the-century belief in colonics, as well as suffering from the occasional bout of irregularity himself. So, he'd had his candies laced with a mild laxative, believing that it would help relieve the bile that his students accumulated from the stress of schooling. Harry managed to snort Vodka at the revelation that the former Headmaster'd often swore mightily that he'd shove a good handful down both McGonagall and Granger's throats. "It would do wonders for their personalities, Severus," Snape droned on in a passing imitation of his departed friend and mentor, "for those two to take a healthy shite like the rest of us!"

O.o

Snape's recollections were interrupted by his subconscious informing him that he'd best start paying attention to the conversation right bloody now. He replayed the last line of conversation in his head.

"So, Severus, since you seem so determined to stay in your musty dungeon and never see the light of day, I've taken it upon myself to arrange a social encounter for you. After all, you aren't getting any younger, and I think a courtship would do wonders for your complexion." The alarm claxions were blaring in his head. He raised an eyebrow at Narcissa's comments.

"And what, pray tell, have you decided to foist upon me now? Wasn't one untenable oath given to an irrational creature bent on death and destruction enough?" Snape asked flatly.

Narcissa ignored his sarcasm. "Oh don't be like that Severus. Lucius and I both feel that it's simply a matter of never having met a woman who fulfills your intellectual requirements."

He felt a sudden chill creep down his spine. "Really," he droned, his voice laced with venom, "I don't suppose that you've 'found' somebody who fits that description?"

Narcissa smiled happily, her face reminding Snape of the look Bellatrix had while torturing some hapless innocent. 'Must run in the family,' Snape mused internally. "Of course! Now, she may be a little young, but…"

Snape cut her off mid-sentence. "Young? Don't tell me that you've not only taken it upon yourself to set up a ridiculous farce of a date, but with a former student of mine?" He asked pointedly.

She blithely waved off Snape's comments. "Now, now, Severus, what's a few decades to a wizard and witch who will most likely live into their hundreds, if not longer."

Severus swallowed back the rapidly growing lump of bile forming in his gut. "Narcissa…" he trailed of warningly.

"Don't be so pessimistic," she said, lightly laughing off his unstated objection. "I think you'll find her to be in every way your intellectual equal, and as fascinated with potions as you are! As for her age, isn't it every man's fantasy to date a younger woman?"

"Not every man's, no." Snape replied flatly. "Who is it?" He demanded.

"Now Severus, it's not called a blind date for nothing… you'll ruin the surprise!"

"I had enough surprises to last a lifetime. Who is it?" Snape pressed.

Narcissa pouted. "Severus," she said, leaning forward and gently touching his hand, "don't be that way. You trust me, don't you?"

Severus sneered lightly at Narcissa's act. "Cissy, the last time you used that on me I wound up in an Unforgivable Oath to kill the one man who treated me with any respect. For the last time: Who. Is. It?"

Narcissa sighed, dropping her lightly flirtatious attitude. "Well, if you are so certain to be a spoil-sport…" She trailed off.

"I am. In fact, I can assure you that if the woman you are setting me up with…" he trailed off mid-sentence, a dreadful notion popping into his mind. "It is a woman, right?" He asked. Narcissa's scandalized look and hasty assurance that his 'date' was indeed female did little to settle Snape's nerves. "At least there's that. As I was saying, if this woman is as acute as you claim, she'd no more agree to an anonymous partner as I would."

Narcissa sighed, affecting grave disappointment. "Oh fine, if you are going to be that way…" Snaped nodded impatiently. "Oh very well. It would appear that one of Hogwart's top students taken entirely too long to get over a nasty little break-up, so the girls over at the Ministry all got together and talked with a few of the members of my bridge club, and we decided that something most certainly must be done about this situation. I mean, a woman in the prime of her life, pining away for such a useless example of wizard-kind."

"Enough!" Snape interrupted, fighting back the urge to either apperrate to some uncharted island or merely Avada Kedavra this trainwreck to a screeching halt. "Stop beating around the bush and tell me who it is."

Narcissa pouted. "You seem to have lost some of your decorum over the years, Severus," she chided. Severus merely narrowed his eyes and waved her on. With a sigh, she surrendered, "Hermione Granger."

"No." Snape replied.

"But Severus," Narcissa pleaded winningly.

"Absolutely not. I will not waste one more moment of my life with this farce of a conversation, and I certainly will not waste a night listening to that bushy-haired beaver natter on incessantly about matters she has no more true understanding of than any other hyper-intellectual activist without a grain of reality interjected."

She laughed off his objections. "Now Severus, what's the worst that could possibly happen?"

"You need to ask?" He retorted venomously.

Narcissa shook her head. "Don't be that way. What else were you planning on doing on a Friday night? Tending a few boiling cauldrons before curling up with some dry manuscript alone in your dungeon?" Snape blinked, smiling a bit at the thought of such a pleasant and fulfilling evening. Narcissa let out an exasperated sigh. "Severus, you truly need to get out more, meet people, perhaps find love. Why, you never know, she might find you attractive enough for a more serious courtship?"

Snape blanched at the thought. "That, Cissy, is the worst possible outcome. Look at the illustrious list of gentlemen that our esteemed Ms. Granger has dated over the last few years. Quite frankly, the idea of being counted amongst their uniformly imbecilic and neanderthalic lot makes me want to purge myself for the sake of humanity."

Narcissa had the gall to giggle at Snape's analysis. "Oh Severus, don't ever change." He glared at her, silently assuring her that changing was the last item on his to-do list in life. "So you'll go, right?" She asked. "If only as a favor for me?"

Snape shook his head. "Absolutely not. You used up every possible favor I could ever owe you, in this life and five others ahead of it, when you named me Draco's godfather. No. I will not participate in this farce, and I would rather appreciate you meddling around in other people's affairs. Don't you have other, more closely related, lives to ruin? You son's, perhaps?"

Narcissa pouted, then shrugged and dejectedly muttered, "well, I suppose I shall have to call up Cadrigan's and cancel the reservation."

Snape froze. She hadn't. Cadrigan's was one of, if not the, most exclusive Wizarding restaurants in all of London, and he'd been trying to get onto the reservation list for over two decades. He'd risk the return of the Dark Lord himself for a chance to eat there. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

"When should I pick her up," he said dejectedly, "or are we meeting there?"

Narcissa smiled in triumph. "Oh, don't worry about the details," she cooed, "I'll take care of all that." She clasped her hands together in joy. "Isn't this wonderful? I'm certain the two of you will have a lovely time!"

"That's about as likely as the possibility of your son swearing off magic to live in a Muggle Nunnery," Severus mumbled under his breath, dreading the upcoming weekend more by the second.


	2. Chapter 2

A\N: Just spewing out bits as they come. Yes, I'm still fanatically Harmonian. I am, however, willing to see where things go while experimenting with character dialog and plot bunnies.

o.O

Snape waited sullenly in the shadows outside of Cadrigan's. He still couldn't believe that he'd let Narcissa rope him into this travesty. No, that was a lie. He'd go as Lucius' date for another chance to eat here. Frankly, the introductory meeting with Voldemort at this establishment was one of the main reasons why he'd made the asinine decision to become a Death Eater in the first place. He rather hoped that this dinner date wouldn't have quite the disastrous consequences as his last.

Ms. Granger arrived a half-hour early, as he'd privately bet himself. He took a moment to appreciate her appearance from his beshadowed nook. He'd noted that the bookworm cleaned up quite nicely when she was only fifteen, and the years had been rather kind to her since. She wore flowing emerald formal robes that clung to her curves in a most flattering way. Her hair, usually untamed and reminiscent of a poorly groomed poodle, was bound in a loose bun with tendrils framing her face. For a moment, Snape felt the stirring of his loins and wondered if, perhaps, he wasn't as put-out as he'd thought. The moment passed as he noted her impatient expression.

"Ms. Granger," he said as he stepped out of the shadows with his signature billowing robes. He smiled internally at her surprised expression. 'Still haven't lost my touch,' he mused happily.

Hermione quickly regained her bearings. "Professor Snape," she replied respectfully. "I must say I was rather shocked that you'd agreed to this 'date' in the first place." She gave him a wry expression. "It was always my understanding that you rather loathed me."

Snape shrugged. "Frankly Ms. Granger, I was wondering the same thing myself. I'm certain that the best friend of the Golden Hero himself would have no difficulty whatsoever finding a partner for dinner on a Friday evening."

Hermione sighed at the contemptuous tone Snape used while talking about Harry. "Don't bother professor," she said with her signature bossy tone, "I know the whole hating Harry thing is an act." She smiled a bit. "Frankly, the whole world knows it after those last few articles in the Daily Prophet."

Snape waved off her lecture. "Old habits are hard to break, I suppose." Hermione seemed to accept his explanation, and let the matter drop. "You still haven't told me why you agreed to meet me here."

Hermione shrugged helplessly. "Frankly, the ladies at the Ministry were driving me absolutely spare with their constant 'subtle' hints, and I decided that I'd at least have the possibility of intelligent conversation if I agreed to meet with you. That and I've no worries about you expecting me to invite you to my flat for tea afterwards." The pair shared a wry chuckle.

"Shall we?" Snape asked, motioning towards the door. Hermione nodded, walking towards the restaurant entrance. He almost smiled when she held the door for him. "I see chivalry isn't dead," he commented wryly. Hermione matched his dry look with a smug smirk.

"Dating Ron made me take up necromancy," she said venomously, "in the hopes that a rotting shambling inferni formed from the brutalized remains of chivalry might provide some from of satisfaction." She paused, thoughtfully. "Of course, when dating a Weasley, one truly has to be self-reliant to get any satisfaction at all."

Snape glanced down at Hermione with carefully concealed shock. "Did I just hear Hermione Granger make a masturbatory reference, in public no less?"

Hermione flushed. Severus idly noted that it looked rather fetching on her. He'd have to slap the shite out of Harry later. "Professor!" She exclaimed, scandalized.

Severus sneered. "I suppose that casual flirtation is too much to expect out of this evening. Can't say I'm surprised." He ignored her indignant sputtering as he flagged down the maitre de. A few words later, and a waiter appeared to lead them to a secluded table in a private room. He smiled internally, glad that he'd remembered that the point of a reservation here wasn't the time, but rather the fact that one's name was on the list. He pulled out a chair for Ms. Granger with exaggerated care.

"Just one more way that I am superior to Mr. Weasley," he said as Hermione took her seat. She actually managed a grin at the comment.

"Why Professor, I do believe that we've established a common interest." She said slyly. We both loath and detest Ronald Weasley with the sort of passion that makes gods tremble."

Snape blinked, taken aback. He paused, pondering her words. "Why, I do suppose you are right. That makes two, then. I am surprised."

"Two?" Hermione queried, while glancing at the blank menu in confusion.

Severus smiled. "The menu is there to determine your perfect meal," he said, gesturing at the still closed menu in his hand. "I suppose they kept it so that the elite can share a mirthful chuckle at the expense of their less connected guests."

"I suppose that you are above such things?" She asked archly.

Severus sneered. "Of course. I don't need petty tricks to find amusement over the foibles of my inferiors. Or in this case, your ignorance is of no fault of your own, so I feel nothing either way. Set the menu at the edge of the table, it's done now. The server will be by with your first course and beverage soon."

Hermione blinked, unaccustomed to Snape's almost charitable attitude. "Oh. Well, thank you, I think. So, you still haven't answered my original question. You mentioned we had two common interests?"

Snape waved off her question. "If you haven't figured it out already, I suppose it's pointless to continue. So, how shall we fill the time between exquisite courses? And stop calling me professor, it makes me feel dirty." He affected a perverse leer. "Unless, of course, you want me to feel dirty."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, her lips drawn into a thin smile. "Why Mr. Snape, seeing as how this is an introductory courtship meeting, I would only want you to feel as comfortable as possible. Since history has proven that you are quite uncomfortable with your currently hygienic state, feeling dirty should make you feel right at home."

Severus couldn't suppress his surprised bark of laughter. "Ms. Granger, it appears that you have claws after all. I thought that the only verbal sparring you were capable of required high decibel vocalizing."

Hermione snorted. "You aren't worth the effort," she said with a contemptuous sniff.

Snape popped a boner right there. He shook himself internally, redoubling his commitment to slap the ever-living shite out of Harry next time they met. Potter needed to grow some testicles, and fast, or he'd find himself losing Hermione to his closest male confidant once again.

Severus blinked. He had NOT just thought that.


	3. Chapter 3

A\N: As I said, this is just an experiment with dialog, as well as playing around with other characters. I've got the ending(s) in mind. Not to worry, I'll post exactly which 'ship' each ending corresponds too, so you won't have to hurt your brain reading it.

Snape's internal shock was interrupted by the arrival of the first course. The waiter placed a small plate of cucumber salad in front of him, along with a tall glass of some variety of white wine. He noted the Hermione had a similar flute of wine in front of her, but her starter was some form of Caesar salad. A loaf of fresh white bread appeared in the middle of the table, along with two dishes of flavored butter. He suppressed a smile at Hermione's expression. He noted her hesitation to try the wine.

"Trust me," Snape said silkily, eliciting the opposite reaction from Hermione, "you'll never find a more perfect compliment to your meal." He noted her dubious expression with a sigh. "They provide sobriety charms and a safe Floo connection home." She nodded, and tried a bite of the salad followed by a sip of her wine. Severus couldn't help but find her expression of wonderment appealing. Shrugging off the unexpected distraction, he tried a bite of his salad. A rare smile graced his lips as he tasted the ever-so-subtle salty tang of the specialty brine used to soak the cucumbers. 'Tears of Ultimate Sadness. How utterly delightful,' Snape thought as he relished the flavor. The pair spent the next few minutes quietly appreciating the first part of their meal, Hermione making the occasional muted sounds of delight.

"You should write a book," Hermione said, breaking the silence.

Snape blinked in surprise. "Excuse me?" He asked.

"A book. Detailing your experiences as a spy working against Voldemort." Hermione explained. "The people would just eat it up. Merlin, you could even publish it as a fictional account and sell it to muggles as well," she said, growing more excited as she continued. "I mean, I certain that you have such interesting and tragic stories to share, as well as the ability to grant a trusted look into the inner workings of that madman's organization."

Snape cut her off before she could get any more worked up. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that the only scholarly Gryffindor would ask me to novelize my time as a spy," he drawled.

Hermione pursed her lips in exasperation. "Well, I think it would be brilliant," she said with the slightest hint of a sulk.

Snape shrugged. "I suppose it's not the most terrible idea I've heard lately. So tell me, how's your efforts at convincing Potter to pen down his accomplishments."

Hermione made a face. "Miserable. Honestly, between his reluctance to talk about…well… anything dealing with himself and his feelings as well as his disagreements with the Queen's English…"

Snape smirked. "Not that it's stopped you from trying." Hermione gave him a playful glare. "So tell me, when will your version of the events be published?"

Hermione looked down at her plate and fidgeted with her fork. "Oh, I doubt that anybody would be interested in what I have to say about it all. I mean, not unless I promise to 'tell all' about Harry, something I'd never do without his permission."

Snape shook his head in disgust. She had a point. "Have you tried suggesting co-writing with Harry then? He tells the stories, you make them presentable?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, but that's when Harry gets all tight-lipped. He says 'You know, I know, Ron knows, the Weasley's know. That's about everybody who matters anymore.' and that's that. I still haven't managed to pry out anything but the vaguest hints of his childhood… it's rather frustrating. I mean, here we are, best friends for almost a decade, and I hardly know a thing about him before he started school." She glanced up at Snape meaningfully. "You probably know more about him than I do, courtesy of those 'remedial potions' lessons." She finished off the last sip of her wine, and gently patted her lips clean with a napkin.

Snape pressed his lips together in a thin line. He was saved from having to formulate a response by the entrance of the soup course, along with another glass of wine. They ate in comfortable silence, neither caring to find some empty subject to converse over.

o.O

Three more courses, and six glasses of wine later, the pair found themselves in a rather healthy debate over the proper usage of murkweed in combination with salamander saliva. Perhaps it was the meal, perhaps it was the alcohol, but Severus couldn't remember enjoying a woman's company as much since before he'd mangled everything horribly with Lily. Their dinner changed to desert, and their conversation changed to a no-holds-barred bitch-fest over the failings of one Ronald Weasley.

Hermione laughed heartily, waving her fork in the air above her decadently rich chocolate cake. "Believe me, his utter ineptness in the classroom translated into just about every other aspect of his life. Frankly, I was terrified for my liver the first time we really got into a kiss, his tongue was flinging itself so far down my throat! You should have seen the look on his face when my gag reflex kicked in and I threw up a little in our mouths!" She said, blushing and laughing.

Snape sneered down at her. "Frankly Ms. Granger, I could have gone my entire existence without that little tidbit! Next you'll be telling me horror stories about him between the sheets."

Hermione let out an undignified snort. "Loud, boorish, and utterly unaccomplished," she said. "Frankly, the one time we slept together, and I mean that in the loosest possible terms as no sane human could actually slumber next to that overbearing prat who snores like a flatulent dragon, I managed to re-affirm my commitment to wait until marriage… and if married to Ron, after divorce as well."

Snape chuckled evilly. "My my Ms. Granger, I can't say I'm surprised that you've clung fast to your 'virtue,' at least not during one of your many forays into a doomed relationship with Mr. Weasley."

Hermione smirked wickedly. "I'll bet you're twisted little mind is coming up with all sorts of potions right now, isn't it?"

Snape pretended to look affronted. "Ms. Granger, you wound me. My mind is anything but little, and I'll have you know that I've never stopped contemplating the perfect brew for any given situation." He playfully sneered down at her. "Surely your ego is not so overbearing as to assume that you were worthy of my undivided attention?"

Hermione snorted, "Of course not. Much like Lockheart, that power is held by mirrors alone."

"That sharp tongue of yours, Ms. Granger, is precisely the reason why you are wasting a perfectly good evening in my company rather than some other gentleman's."

"And your ability to woo a woman's heart is the reason why you find publishing in journals the most satisfying form of social interaction," she riposted.

"Perhaps it is not so much my abilities but rather the vagaries of the aforementioned heart that has lead me to a far more stable and logical pursuit," Snape replied silkily.

"So now you attack the female gender as a whole? I assure you, Professor, that men's affections are as incomprehensible and illogical as our own. My finest example: Harry."

"Bah, he's not so difficult to understand to anybody with eyes open and minds unclouded by his reputation."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "So, which is it then, Severus? Are my eyes closed or my mind befuddled?" She asked archly.

Snape sneered and took another sip of wine. "Frankly, your eyes are not only closed, but spelled shut and wrapped in five layers of cloth for certainty's sake."

Hermione took a long swallow of her drink. "So enlighten me, if you are able. I mean, I don't see a blackboard available for you to scrawl incomplete instructions before ignoring the class."

Snape snorted. "Perhaps if my students were capable of independent cognition the brevity of my teaching style wouldn't be such an issue."

Hermione gave him a rather close imitation of his trademark sneer. "I think you are merely bluffing, using ephemeral claims of knowledge and petty redirection to cover up your utter ignorance on the subject."

Snape cocked an eyebrow. "Is that so, Ms. Granger?" Hermione nodded, taking another sip. "Very well, this meal has made me unusually magnanimous. Ask and ye shall be enlightened."

A\N: Next chapter is final chapter – with different endings for different outcomes. And yes, I did steal Snape's salad condiment from Southpark. It just seemed so fitting.


	4. Chapter 4, Harmonious

A\N: This chapter contains the Harmonious ending, as well as fulfilling (in the end) a request from one of my frequent reviewers. Enjoy.

Next chapter will include the non-Harmonious, abjectly Dissonant, and BIG RED BUTTON™ (at least for H/Hr shippers) endings.

o.O

Snape settled back into his chair with a smirk. "Frankly Ms. Granger, once on disregards the input of the immature and unconcerned, the consensus is unanimous regarding the nature of Harry's feelings towards you, and visa versa."

Hermione made a small face. "Oh, not this again…"

Snape waved off her objections. "Just because an opinion is held by a number of people does not necessarily make it correct, or incorrect. I'm honestly amazed that the two of you haven't at least made an attempt at furthering your obvious affections."

Hermione shook her head. "What obvious affections? Harry's not once indicated any sort of attraction for me."

Snape repressed the urge to slap his hand against his face in disgust. "Maybe we should approach this from a different angle. Tell me, other than his pathetically inept attempts to woo Ms. Cho back in Hogwarts, what has been the single common thread amongst the few relationships he's had thus far?"

Hermione shrugged. "Other than the fact that they died pretty soon after they started? Or the fact that every girl was either jealous of me or pumped me for information regarding Harry's preferences?"

Snape sneered. "That wasn't what I was aiming towards, but I think that's another fairly strong indication towards the main thrust of my argument." He paused, taking another sip of wine. Hermione motioned impatiently for Snape to continue. "Very well, nobody has ever accused you of impartiality of observations where Potter's concerned. Quite frankly, every woman who's managed to snag Harry has had to practically jump him before he could understand that they were actually attracted to him. Most likely a side effect of his gloriously humane relatives. Quite frankly, Harry simply does not possess the social acumen or emotional solidity required to understand the fact that women do indeed desire some strong indication of physical attraction. Couple that with the ingrained gentility and politeness Merlin knows where he picked up, and you have a man who is rather firmly set upon the understanding that no female could honestly appreciate the slightest indication of his desire. Throw in the mindless masses flinging themselves at his feet due to honors he's still firmly convinced aren't rightly his own…"

Hermione blinked. "So, basically, you're telling me that even if Harry was, in fact, attracted to me in a manner other than familial, the likelihood of him acting the aggressor is somewhere around the likelihood of him marrying Draco?"

"Precisely," Snape answered.

"Fine, let us say for the moment that I accept your observations. The lack of evidence of his desire for a relationship no longer means that he doesn't want one, but it also doesn't mean the opposite," Hermione postulated imperiously.

"Fair enough," Snape drawled, secretly pleased that at least one other magically talented human was capable of understanding the basic flow of proof/disproof. "But let us assume, for the moment, that you harbor some measure of desire for Harry. Taking Harry's personality into account, it would behoove you to give some rather firm indication of your own wants and needs, rather than acting so painfully stereotypically female and forcing all risk of rejection onto Harry."

Hermione frowned, eyes narrowed. "Are you attempting to insinuate something about the female gender as a whole?"

"I'm not attempting," Snape said flatly, "I'm doing. The female desire to be pursued coupled with their passivity and frankly atrocious assumptions that men communicate using the same non-verbal cues as women leaves both frustrated and confused. Combined with the female stereotype that men are emotionally stunted and inarticulate, perhaps even inferior, compared to women only exacerbates the situation. You, my dear, are far from innocent of that fault. My proof is in how you have repeatedly found yourself swooning over cretins. If, perhaps, you would take the initiative instead of waiting for some slovenly Neanderthal to pant heavily in your direction…" Snape trailed off suggestively.

Hermione scowled. "So you're saying it's my fault that all the guys I date are dicks?"

Snape smiled. "One point to Gryffindor for demonstrating that finally one of your House has more mental acuity than a stillborn tapeworm. It appears that you can eventually achieve a flaccid grasp on the simplest of concepts!"

Hermione snorted. "This coming from a man who hadn't discovered the positive social benefits of bathing - with soap - for over three decades."

"Touché," Snape replied.

"So, if you are finished reminding me why I find your company distasteful and adding misogyny to your laundry-list of character flaws, perhaps you would care to enlighten me about Harry's feelings? Here's a challenge for you… try to show more social acumen than an eleven-year-old Ronald Weasley."

Snape hissed at the barb. "Fine. The boy adores you, always has, and you know it. Quite simply put your relationship is dreadfully inefficient. It's obvious to even the most casual observer that the pair of you share a life-long bond of the deepest friendship, so why do you insist on wasting your energies attempting to find romance and physical affection amongst others? Harry's quite handily given up, but he respects you entirely to much to display the boorish behavior that would so quickly catch your eye."

Hermione blinked. "Well, what if I'd rather not risk what we have by adding in that extra step? I mean, I stand to lose my closest friend if we didn't work out."

Snape waved his hand dismissively. "Quite frankly, Hermione, your logical flaw is the assumption that either of you would act in the same manner after a failed relationship with the other as you have with others. In fact, if you would bother to apply that overly acute memory of yours, you would note quite firmly that is has been the female, not Harry, who severed contact after the relationship terminated. Harry is, if anything, extremely forgiving."

He sat in quiet triumph, enjoying the last bits of his desert while watching Hermione chew through his arguments. He wondered if the woman had any concept of how much her thought processes played across her features, or how disgustingly winsome it made her.

Finally, Hermione looked up at Severus. "So tell me, Professor, why is it that you are playing match-maker between Harry and I, instead of focusing on what has been to this point a rather shockingly enjoyable date?"

Snape took a moment to consider her question. His mind kept seizing upon the painful similarities between this woman, and a tragically one-sided love he felt so very long ago. He ruminated upon the fact that he was, in effect, attempting to cause history to repeat itself with yet another generation of Potters.

He arched his fingers in front of his face and sneered half-heartedly at Hermione. "Let us blame this on my overdeveloped sense of literary irony."

Hermione laughed at Snape's backhanded narcissism. "I suppose we shall." She finished the last of her wine. "So, who's picking up the check?"

Snape smiled wickedly. "You didn't know? There is no check. Simply the act of getting onto the reservation list costs far more than the meal ever could. If you are finished, we may depart at will."

Hermione blinked, mulling over his words. "Well… that's certainly different." She stood, obviously swaying a bit from her inebriation. Severus stood to follow, far more accustomed to handling his intoxication.

As they meandered towards the egress, Snape gave Hermione a rare genuine smile. "I must admit that this evening, exquisite cuisine aside, has been remarkably tolerable."

Hermione nodded, "Yes, amazingly it has. I think I understand that perhaps Harry isn't as much of a masochist as I'd previously assumed from the amount of time he spent in your vicinity."

Snape sneered. "Unconcerned about the burden Potter's dour attitude places on my shoulders, I see. Typical." Hermione snorted. Snape noted that they were almost to the exit. "So, shall I apply the sobering charm now?"

Hermione shook her head and gave Snape a wicked little grin. Grabbing a handful of floo powder, she said, "I think I'm going to apply an empirical examination of your hypothesis vis a vi Harry and I." She flung the powder into the roaring fireplace, called out 'Potter's Den!' and vanished in a burst of green flames.

Snape shook his head ruefully. That was the first, and hopefully last, time he'd ever purposefully and willingly chase an attractive female into the arms of a Potter. With a practiced flick of his wand, Snape cast a sobering charm on himself, and suppressed a joyful smile at the thought that if he hurried, he could still spend a few lovely hours perusing the latest Potion Masters Monthly.

-Fin

o.O SomeGuyFawkes Special Ending O.o

_War Hero Dies In Tragic Accident!_

_Severus Snape, famed for his actions as a spy in Voldemort's ranks and astounding the world with his ability to elude certain demise, passed away tragically when a vat of shampoo fell from a faulty muggle cargo flying thingy. It was noted that it wasn't so much the impact that killed Severus Snape, as the crushing irony._

_Mr. Snape has no living magical relatives, and is survived by a bunch of muggles nobody really cares about._

_Remembering a hero, continued on page six._


	5. Chapter 4, Dissonant

A\N: Bleah, might go back and rewrite the Harmonious ending, a bit too much Will He Be Happy!Snape preaching. And now for the Non-Harmonious, Dissonant (do a search for 01 if you want to skip to the SS\Hr ending) and 02 for the BIG RED BUTTON™ (if you dare. Search for 02 to skip directly there) ending.

o.O

Snape paused for a moment, examining his new-found appreciation for the woman in front of him. He was reminded, forcefully, of an opportunity he'd squandered years ago. 'To hell with Harry,' he thought, 'I'm not going to meddle like Cissy.' He let out a fake sigh of defeat. "Alright, you've called my bluff. I've got nothing."

Hermione gave him a self-satisfied smirk. "See? That wasn't so hard now, was it."

"You have no idea," Snape sneered.

The pair finished their deserts and wine, filling the empty air with a friendly debate over the merits of one ingredient or another. For the first time in decades, Snape found himself genuinely enjoying the company of one of his former students. As they made their way towards the exit, he couldn't help but comment, "I must say this evening turned out to be far more enjoyable than I'd expected."

Hermione grinned. "I rather doubt that is saying much."

Snape sneered, "Indeed." He replaced the sneer with a small, genuine smile. "Even so, I think perhaps we should do this again."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, we should. Maybe next time you and Harry decide to have one of your famously alcohol laden outings, I'll tag along."

Snape pondered the idea. "I daresay there's more than a little appeal to your idea. Next time, then?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes. Next time." With a deft flick of her wand, she cast a sobering charm and apperrated away.

Snape blinked, struck by the fact that he actually regretted leaving her company. "Next time indeed." His face scrunched up in disgust once he realized that he owed Cissy an apology. 'Bah,' he thought venomously, 'even Goyle managed to brew a potion right on occasion.'

-Fin

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01

Severus gave Hermione a playfully contemptuous sneer. "Its obvious to even the most casual observer that Harry quite simply adores you. Perhaps if you'd take up the initiative and actually show the boy he had a chance, you'd find yourself pleasantly surprised."

Hermione snorted. "Evidently you've forgotten that the casual observer thought the world was flat for millennia." She gave Snape a meaningful look. "Do you really think that Harry and I haven't enjoyed the benefits of our friendship?"

Snape blinked. "Wait… you mean that you and he have actually…"

Hermione grinned wickedly. "Of course we have! Look, I adore Harry, really I do, but there just isn't a spark. I mean, the sex is fantastic, but he's so… gentle. That really isn't what I'm looking for, you know, long term." She chuckled at Snape's shocked expression. "Well, I suppose that answers the question about Harry kissing and telling. I know it's probably hard on Harry, but he's just not what I want in a lover."

Snape carefully schooled his face into his trademark sneer while internally flapping his jaw like a fish out of water. 'That was most… unexpected,' he thought, forcing himself to remain still despite the sudden uncomfortable tightness of his trousers.

"I hope you aren't too disappointed," Hermione said playfully, giving him a sultry smile and looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "I hear some men rather fancy the idea of claiming a woman's chastity."

Snape snorted. "Hardly. My distaste for ignorance is only slightly less than my distaste for instruction. I'll leave inept adolescent fumbling to the adolescents. So, you did indeed suffer the tragic lack of sense needed to part your legs for Mr. Weasley?"

"Hardly," Hermione replied. "As I said, Harry's… gentle. Just not what I'm looking for, long term." She grinned wickedly. "Not too bad for taking the edge off, though."

Snape shook his head. "That, Ms. Granger, was entirely too much information. I'm glad that Potter showed more discretion, and I rather wish you'd done the same." He noted that they'd both managed to finish their dessert and wine with a twinge of regret. "I find myself surprisingly regretful that this date is drawing to a close," he said as he stood, offering Hermione a hand up.

"You know, so do I," she said quietly. She looked adorably pensive for a moment, and then Snape could clearly her mental shift playing across her face. "Don't we have to pay for the meal?" She asked, accepting his hand. Snape dismissed her question with a wave of his hand.

"Getting a reservation," he said flatly, "costs enough as it is. The meal is included."

Hermione shrugged, and in her tipsy state leaned gently into Severus' side. He almost started at the pleasant feel of a warm, soft woman against him. It had been a while, and Hermione'd become startlingly desirable in the course of a single short meal. He noted that she hadn't bothered to move away as they walked towards the exit. Feeling pleasantly bold, and more than a little inebriated, he ventured following the verbal map she'd offered. "Then it is agreed, this conversation shouldn't end simply because the meal is over. You'll be joining me for tea?" He didn't exactly ask her.

She didn't exactly answer. Instead, she pressed up against him, firmly, then took a half-step back. "Your floo?" She asked daintily.

Snape wrapped his arm about her waist, and with the other grabbed a handful of powder and tossed it into the fire. "Restful Ventures," he hissed and together they stepped into the green flames.

-Fin

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02

BIG RED BUTTON BIG RED BUTTON BIG RED BUTTON BIG RED BUTTON

Hermione chuckled lightly at Snape's imperious expression. "Oh, don't bother; you'll get it all wrong. You see, you aren't the only one good at keeping secrets."

Snape blinked. That wasn't quite what he'd expected. "Pardon?" He asked.

"Well, it's just that you and I share something in common: We both harbor a rather deep affection for Harry. Don't bother denying it," she said, cutting off his objections, "but what you don't know is that Harry and I share a little secret as well." She gave him a wicked little smile.

Snape blinked, finding himself uncomfortably intrigued by the line of conversation. "You do?" He asked, surrendering the reigns to his dinner date.

She smile wickedly. "Oh yes, we do. Honestly, Severus, you didn't actually think that I could get brow-beaten into a dinner date by the mindless yapping of my co-workers, did you?"

"I had thought it somewhat out of character, yes," Snape answered.

"Exactly. You see, this whole affair has been a bit of a… sounding board if you will. You see, Harry and I share just about everything, and we do it quite discreetly. And over time, we've found that we share some very uncommon common interests." She gave Snape a seductive look, her voice sultry and suggestive.

"I suppose you'll get around to telling me at some point, instead of forcing me to Legilimens it out of you?" Snape drawled, trying to regain the upper hand.

Hermione smiled. "Kinky." Snape blinked. "You see, Harry and I find ourselves incredibly attracted," her voice became husky, "to older, authoritative men." She ran her fingertips down the length of Snape's hand. "We both know why your patronus is a doe, Professor," she made the word 'Professor' sound terribly naughty, "and now I know why Harry's so interested…" She trailed off, licking her lips daintily.

Maybe it was the food. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't gotten laid in over twenty years…

o.O

The next morning, Snape woke up in an unfamiliar bed, with two warm bodies pressed against his side. He blinked, and looked to the right. Bushy brown hair. He looked to the left. Untamed raven locks.

"Oh bugger," he thought. "I don't even want to imagine how annoying Cissy's 'I told you so' is going to be if she finds out…"

-Fin


End file.
